


Gentle Intensity

by micromachete



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Oneshot, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, The Bridge Scene, lgbt richie, ok hope you like it, r+e, reddie is canon bitch, somewhat angsty ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 12:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20582597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micromachete/pseuds/micromachete
Summary: But was he though? Was it really fear when his heart skipped at Eddie’s soft smile or was it something else? Excitement, maybe. Wonder? Affection.Yeah, he decided. The soft, fizzing sparks in his belly at the thought of Eddie could only be described as affection. Okay, he liked that. That was … that was fine.Then where did the fear fit in? He didn’t fear loving Eddie. No way! Eddie was a cutie and the world needed to know it. He was afraid of being shamed for it, he supposed. Because if anyone found out … well, it wasn’t worth the description....Richie digs his way through fear and love and all that in between and it eventually leads to one of the many carvings on the Kissing Bridge. R + E.





	Gentle Intensity

**Author's Note:**

> In this family we love and cherish Richie Tozier.

When asked what he was afraid of, Richie Tozier would say “clowns,” and that would be that.

He wouldn’t call that a lie. He truly didn’t think of clowns as the most pleasant thing to look at. He figured he’d answered that question just fine. He knew that’s not what they really asked, though.

They’d asked for his greatest fear. The thing which made all the hair on his body stand up straight and sent icy shards swirling down his stomach. What left him helpless, frozen, raw. 

It wasn’t only clowns, that was for sure.

Myself. Richie thought. He was terrified of himself? Perhaps it wouldn’t suffice to say so - too vague. He wasn’t exactly afraid of Richie Trashmouth Tozier whom everyone hated to love. Richie was loud and coarse and bold. He was also rather intelligent although you wouldn’t be able to reach that conclusion by the way he behaved. 

No, Richie wasn’t particularly frightening. It was those other, slithering, aspects of him as a person. Sliding around him, taking over him. He was scared he was different, strange, odd. Queer. 

He felt that chilling, whispering fear when he caught himself glancing at a boy’s hair for a second too long. It frightened him when he didn’t feel the slightest bit of attraction to Saffron Kurt, the girl with cornflower blue eyes all the other boys fawned over. He’d feel like he’d swallowed burning embers every time he heard Bowers call someone a faggot or a fairy or a … queer. An odd sensation curled in his gut every time he ached to reach forward and capture Eddie Kaspbrak’s small hand in his own. 

The fear reached every little crevice of his soul and burnt him like cruel fire. No, he supposed, I’m not scared of myself. He was scared of his … his undeniable queerness.

But was he though? Was it really fear when his heart skipped at Eddie’s soft smile or was it something else? Excitement, maybe. Wonder? Affection. 

Yeah, he decided. The soft, fizzing sparks in his belly at the thought of Eddie could only be described as affection. Okay, he liked that. That was … that was fine.

Then where did the fear fit in? He didn’t fear loving Eddie. No way! Eddie was a cutie and the world needed to know it. He was afraid of being shamed for it, he supposed. Because if anyone found out … well, it wasn’t worth the description. 

Richie shuddered. He brushed it off, though. It wasn’t like anyone would ever find out. It made his heart sink a little. No one would ever find out how much … how much he loved Eddie Kaspbrak. 

It was unacceptable. He wasn’t going to die with love as passionate as his kept concealed. 

Shaking his head, Richie scolded himself internally. It was ridiculous even entertaining such ideas. It wouldn’t do him any good. 

,,,

Still, Richie found himself at the Kissing Bridge, a pocket-knife tucked securely in his sleeve. Impossible though it seemed, he found a spot on the wooden railing unmarked by all the knives that came before him. 

For a moment, he glowered at the carvings which decorated the bridge. It wasn’t fair how so many were able to proclaim their love and he … well, he didn't dare try. Fuelled by something unnameable he shook his arm hard, letting the knife slide into his palm. He lifted it with a shaking hand …  
… and he dragged it down against the wood in a deep vertical line. What was he doing?

He kept carving, though, until there was a bold ‘R’ marked the bridge railing. Holy fucking shit, was he crazy? Okay, maybe he was. A little. A lot. Crazy in love.

A small ‘+’ soon joined the ‘R’ before he could stop himself and flee. He was going insane.

His heart pounding within the confines of his chest, Richie slowly raised the knife once more. Taking a deep breath he pressed the tip into the surface. He felt himself smile a little - he was definitely going crazy. A vertical line. Then a horizontal one at the top, and then another and another.

He stepped back to analyse his work. Now, there was an ‘R + E’ freshly carved into the wood. It looked perfect. He gently brushed his fingers against it. 

Somehow, in this shit show of a world he lived in, everything felt right for a moment. Then Richie left, pressing his teeth into his bottom lip to keep from grinning.

He didn’t realize he’d be visiting his carving in the next few decades. So far away, yet all too soon. But for now, he had a skip in his step and a flutter in his heart and everything was okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Hope you liked reading this thing I wrote at 1 a.m.  
It's my first ever fic, :)  
Leave a kudos maybe lmao


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